A Hundred Times Over
by ShibusAran
Summary: Medieval!AU: Battered and bruised knight of the trenches, Samus, is hauled into the care of prodigy healer, Zelda.


A Hundred Times Over  
Medieval AU ; Soldier Samus x Healer Zelda

 _It was a 'war of the ages', word spread quickly through the trenches. Portals to the gangland had been tearing open across the mainland; releasing beasts and demons that would haunt the campfire stories of generations. The villages had been first; pillaged and trampled and swallowed up by flames before the swarms moved on and began to engulf forests, cities and merchant paths on their way to the capital. Few gates had been closed, but the swarms continued to pour from the breaches of their dimension, and it was beginning to look bleak those caught in their stream._

"Another!"

Zelda released a breath she hadn't realised she was holding, the Admiral's voice bellowing into her quarters.  
The war was unforgiving, but of course, they always were. She had learned to distance herself; to block out the cries and moans of the dying, to tune out the rattling of gunfire and the ground shaking beneath her with every explosion, to cut off emotional ties before anybody she could grasp onto as they passed in and out of the station was torn to pieces less than a thousand feet away from her.  
There was no time to mourn; war is a tornado, a wild and untameable storm that you cannot control once you step onto the front line. You must live in it, dig in your heels and scream over the turmoil until you can say you had done all you could, or before you were torn from your footing and launched into the fray with no promise of return.  
Zelda's position was bittersweet. A healer from Hyrule; granted the magical abilities that meant she excelled far beyond any science could dream, dressed in elegant robes and treated with the highest of priorities.  
 _'If we lose the healer, we lose the war' S_ he had overheard, and with that it became very real.

The flaps concealing her tent-like surgery room flew open, and two officers stumbled in with a soldier wedged between them. Armour battered and torn, hair dishevelled and strewn across their face, out of breath with blood smeared thickly across their pale skin and dented plates. They had escaped death with no room to breathe.

"Taken down by a panther spawn, ma'am!" One officer blurted, panic clear in his voice, "Samus is our finest soldier, please do what you can!"

Zelda nodded, waving to her operating table as she gathered her supplies. When she turned, she was glad to see the soldier holding themselves up at least somewhat. They were a fighter, and they were trying – that was all she needed. Hope.

"Thank you, but that will be all. I need to be alone with the patient." She quirked a brow at the two men standing awkwardly at the door to her tent, who promptly bumbled their way out, then cast an apologetic smile down at her patient. They were unresponsive at first; a normal soldier response; often too proud to seek out help even when they needed it most.

"Thank you. I didn't believe I was fit enough to continue."

That caught Zelda off guard.  
Not only because she had in fact completely missed the mark, but because of the voice that had come from this withdrawn stranger.  
Sure enough, as she leant down to get face to face with the victim in question, it was the face of a woman looking back at her. This wasn't unusual, there were plenty of women that had come in and out, but it brought her a strong sense of pride that the strongest soldier in the squadron was a woman.

She had soldier eyes; something Zelda had seen a hundred times over. They were sunken with a dull ache; loneliness, and the anguish of someone who had seen countless comrades fall between their fingers.

"Tilt your head, please." Zelda instructed, and Samus complied silently to give her a better view of the deep gashes in her cheek. She had seen it time and time over and yet repulsion tugged on her gut every time, and the impassive stare Samus was giving her spoke volumes; that this was merely a scratch that she was bound to return with soon after returning to the battle field. Slender fingers brushed hair away from the wound, but Samus' pale skin was sticky with blood and it made Zelda's stomach churn.

"Hold still for me, Samus." Softer this time, and the moment she cupped Samus' un-slashed cheek to keep her steady, she felt the solider immediately press into her touch.  
 _Of course_ , Zelda thought a tight knot coiled in her chest, this was a soldier. This woman, clearly of age, must have spent years on that battlefield; a wasteland devoid of compassion, of tender caresses and warmth. They craved the slightest touch, the desperation to feel human again for that one fleeting moment.

Samus' eyes fluttered shut, both from submission and exhaustion, and Zelda graced her with a few moments of silence to rub her thumb against Samus' cheek gently. A low, pleading hum slipped past her lips and Zelda's breath hitched; the strongest warrior of the squadron was putty in her hands. She abandoned the wound before even touching it to brush more hair away from her face, and chose to tilt her chin up instead.

"Your wounds are deeper than flesh, aren't they?" She murmured, voice softer than the wind, relieved to hear the hint of a smile in Samus' voice as she replied,

"I can't be the first."

They spent a long time carefully removing Samus' armour, and Zelda noted that she lay it out very particularly. It was endearing, but she was more distracted by the muscular frame steadily revealing itself. Samus was tall and brooding, towering over her with ease and her handsome face was held high with a dignified, strong jaw line. She was stoic for the most part, but gleamed with life behind the seams that had been torn and stitched back up with every battle she fought.  
At last, down to the under armour that covered her vitals, Samus perched more comfortably on the table; but her posture screamed exhaustion. Back arched and shoulders limp, she huffed weakly before meeting Zelda's eyes.

"Sorry I'm taking a lot of time..."

Zelda flushed. How long had she been staring? She shouldn't have been looking in the first place, but her worries were quickly snuffed at Samus' worried expression.

"Not at all! You have my undivided attention; take all the time you need." She answered slowly as though worried she may frighten her, and run her thumb over Samus' cheek once more.

"I'm going to heal your cheek first. It'll be over before you know it."

Samus nodded firmly, wincing at the tingle of Zelda's fingertips on her wounds. She had been caught beneath a panther spawn as it pounced overhead; a demon resembling that of a large feline in structure. Their claws cut through flesh like hot butter, and Samus had been lucky in that only her cheek had been clipped during her attempted last moment under-belly ambush. The force of the creature's weight had knocked her clean from her steed, and when she regained consciousness she was being dragged towards Zelda's quarters. Stories of the healer had spread through the troops like wildfire, and she would be lying if she claimed she hadn't wanted to meet the healer first hand – even if her circumstances weren't quite what she'd hoped for.

A phantom mist curled betwixt Zelda's fingers, creeping up to curl around Samus' cheek and wove itself amongst the cuts and shreds of muscle. Samus twitched under the warmth it brought with a soft, involuntary groan of relief. It stung at first, then tingled, but surely enough it took only a minute for Zelda to pull her hand away, satisfied with her word. Smooth pale skin looked untouched aside from the grimy blood that remained stuck to her skin as a grim reminder, and Samus' eyes cracked open, meeting the warm smile of her healer with gratitude.

"I am in your debt, my lady." Samus' warm breath passed over her lips, suddenly alerting Zelda of how close they were. She flushed, putting some distance between them, and smiled uneasily.

"Not at all, Samus. You are welcome to call me Zelda." Truth be told, being called 'my lady' was a first; and though she knew it to be no more than polite manners, it still brought a shiver down her spine. "Now, you were knocked from your horse?"

Samus nodded, trying to straighten herself up as best she could.  
"Yes, but I was merely winded. Do not trouble yourself," She hesitated, casting up a glance as though searching for permission, "...Zelda."

"Nonsense... I better take another look at you. I know how you soldiers can be in hiding your injuries from me." She noted Samus' knowing, thankful gaze; clearly aware that Samus had no other grievances on her body. She craved touch, she craved attention and compassion, and Zelda couldn't resist delivering it.  
She took a long time inspecting wounds that had long since healed, brushing away imaginary dust and working the knots of tension that had been settling in her well built shoulders for far too long. The time passed by in silence, broken only by the occasional guttural sigh of relief from Samus or the occasional giggle ridden 'Better?' from Zelda.

By the time she had covered Samus' entirety her hands were sore, but the overwhelmed flush on Samus' face was reward enough. A coy smile graced Samus' lips, and she reached out to take one of Zelda's hands between her own.  
"Thank you, Zelda. I shall speak highly of you to my comrades, I assure."  
Zelda giggled, waving it off with her free hand. She ran her fingers daintily through the strands of hair that still fell over Samus' eyes, and smiled.  
"I'd much rather you come by and visit again, instead."


End file.
